


The Little Things

by zombiechick



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-06 12:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiechick/pseuds/zombiechick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red and Lizzie both come to the realization that they want each other thanks to those little details.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

'Beauty is...simplicity,' Red thought to himself and then had to chuckle aloud.

“What's so funny?” Lizzie asked, briefly looking up at the older man.

“Nothing, Lizzie; not to worry, I'm not laughing at you,” Red gave her a smile that he hoped was convincing.

Lizzie snorted, shook her head, and returned to her task; loading the emergency clips for her service revolver, “Whatever,” she retorted.

Red laughed at himself quietly, amused at how watching Lizzie at such menial tasks brought the poet out in him. He had physically stopped himself putting pen to paper numerous times in the last few months. Chastising the exuberant, but ultimately untalented, young poet that still seemed to live somewhere deep in the recesses of his criminal mind; his interactions with the younger woman awakened his lyrical side.

But the way that Lizzie selected each bullet from the box of ammunition, the little spin she gave each cartridge to set it perfectly in place, the depression of her thumb to slide it home, even the way she cradled the clip in her warm palm, it sent chills of desire racing down his spine to pool in his stomach. Her fingers were so adept in their movements, it made him imagine them at more sensual tasks.

He knew that her hands would smell slightly of oil and harsh metal but mixed with the hand cream she used; something with a faintly Lavender scent that made him think of his years in Provence. Red had caught whiffs of it when the younger woman would frequently make her exasperated hang gestures. He assumed that Lizzie's trigger finger and thumb would be a bit calloused but knew he would relish the way those callouses would feel if she would ever be so inclined as to rub her hands over his short cropped hair followed by dragging her adept fingers down the nape of his neck.

Red resurfaced from his imaginings to realize that Lizzie was speaking to him. How many times had she said his nickname before resorting to “Raymond!”

He moved his gaze from Lizzie's hands and lifted his lips in his signature slow moving smile, “Yes, Elizabeth?” he asked calmly successful in hiding the strong wave of desire that had flooded over him when the younger woman had used his given name in a last ditch effort to get his attention.

Lizzie looked slightly disconcerted but waved it away with a frown and a mumbled, “We need to get going; we'll miss the rendezvous.”

“All business, as usual,” Red smirked at her.

Lizzie seemed as though she wanted to say something, fire back a witty retort, but then simply looked Red in the eyes for a few intense moments and finally expelled a short annoyed huff. She turned on her heel and threw another mumbled, “Whatever,” over her shoulder before heading to the car.

Red noted the simple gesture, a practiced shrug of her shoulders as Lizzie seated her revolver in the holster at her side, and how it drew his attention to the lovely curve of her hips, “Simplicity,” he murmured and laughed at himself once again before stepping to and following his muse.


	2. The Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie's turn to think about Red. Don't worry, the smut is most assuredly coming.

Lizzie cursed at herself and grabbed yet another towelette from the medicine cabinet. She carefully washed around her eyes, removing her mascara for the second time that morning. Dipping the brush, she leaned forward and made a ridiculous face in the mirror while she reapplied, inwardly chastising herself the entire time for being so concerned over her appearance. She had a meeting at the Post Office with Red in a little over an hour and the man always made her feel like she was wearing a ratty old t-shirt and sweats. No matter how nicely she groomed herself before heading into work, Red always looked ten times better.

Lizzie finished with the mascara and, letting out a huff of annoyance, tossed it back into the basket with her other make-up. For a brief moment she considered her lipstick selection but then decided against it; she didn't want to call attention to herself, she just wanted to look professional. Gathering up her keys and slipping on her coat, she mused, “His pajamas are probably 1200 count cotton or something like that. Red wouldn't wear silk; that would be too...obvious. I bet even his pajamas look like a three piece suit though.” Lizzie stopped momentarily with her hand on the door, “Why the hell am I thinking about his pajamas?”

On her drive in, Lizzie's thoughts wandered to Red's hands; they were calloused. The first time he'd taken her hand, she'd been surprised that they weren't smooth. What did a man like Raymond Reddington do to develop callouses on his hands? “Maybe he does it so he doesn't offend the tough guys,” she mused. Red dealt with a rough element on a regular basis; they might find soft, smooth, hands on a man to be a sign of weakness. “He definitely gets manicures though,” she said to the empty car while nodding in time to the music that was playing softly from her stereo. “What the hell am I doing?” she thought out loud, trying to laugh it off like it was no big deal that she was completely obsessing over Red. 

“I'm just being a good profiler,” she assured herself, “that's it; it's my natural tendency to gather details about criminals.” This reasoning seemed to quiet the voice in her head that was suggesting that what she was really being was a lovesick dope with a crush. No it was more than a crush; it was an incredibly strong attraction to a very suave, handsome, intriguing, “And Dangerous man,” Lizzie chimed in, interrupting her own thoughts. Argument won, Lizzie straightened in the driver's seat and put a professional look on her face as she pulled into the parking garage at the Post Office.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red notices that Lizzie might be obsessing over him just as much as he's obsessing over her.

Raymond Reddington was always on the alert but Lizzie's presence was especially strong on his personal radar. He was early to their briefing and so was already seated when she walked into the room to join him and her colleagues. Red surreptitiously looked her up and down, mentally approving of the teal colored blouse that she wore beneath the professionally cut black pants suit. “Good morning, Lizzie,” he purred before giving her a friendly smile as their eyes met. 

He was always captivated by her eyes, their depth and the darkness of them mesmerized him. 'They're like pools of...no, please, I can do better than that,' Red argued with himself. 'Pools? How cliché. Even a bad poet knows better than to compare a woman's eyes to pools of...what? Blue pools of...' Red gave himself a mental shake and returned his attention to the briefing.

Lizzie took the seat next to him after a reluctant scan of the room showed that it was the only one unoccupied. Red had noted that the other FBI agents never willingly chose to sit next to him; he found it amusing not to mention flattering. 'Yes, that's me,' he crooned to himself, 'big, bad, Raymond Reddington.' He managed to downgrade his chuckle to a smirk and continued to listen to another one of Cooper's empty threats. 

When Red shifted in his chair, he noticed the little jump that Lizzie made away from him. She tried to hide it by reaching for a paper in the center of the table but the first motion made Red give her his full attention. Although he looked as though he were listening to Cooper, he was actually doing surveillance on Elizabeth Keen. 'Why so nervous this morning, Lizzie?' he wondered as he noted the younger woman engaging in no less than four nervous ticks; she tucked and retucked her hair, chewed her bottom lip, rubbed the scar on her palm, and brushed off her pant legs almost continuously. 

As soon as the meeting concluded, Lizzie jumped up and barked a, “Right, let's go,” at him before quickly turning on her heel and marching to the elevator. 

When the doors opened, Red saw that Lizzie hesitated a moment, glancing back at him, before entering. She moved as far away from Red as she could without looking as though she was hiding in the corner. Red pressed the button for the parking structure himself before he turned around to confront her, “Something the matter, Lizzy? You seem...” he made a circular gesture with his hand to take in her tense stance and pursed lips, “distracted.”

Red watched as Lizzie attempted to will herself to be more relaxed, “Nothing,” she gave him a tight smile, “everything's fine; I'm ready.”

He took a step toward her and said, “I never doubt your abilities, Lizzie; I'm more concerned about your tells.”

“My tells?” Lizzie asked, her mouth dropping open slightly as she turned toward him.

Red could see that she was getting angry with him but this was important, “Yes, your tells. You have more of them than a notoriously bad gambler I knew named Hans. Every time I visited Hong Kong I was guaranteed to run into the man, usually at the end of one of his disastrous week long gambling sprees. I liked him well enough that I always ended up helping him out of his troubles. Well,” and at that Red's mouth became tight and rather grim, “all but the last time.”

The elevator bell dinged and the doors opened, “I don't know what you're talking about, Red,” Lizzie threw over her shoulder as she exited quickly.  
Red caught up with her just as Dembe was opening the door for her to climb into the back seat of his car. He slid in after her and closed the door as Dembe pulled away from the curb. “Lizzie,” Red said with all seriousness as he moved nearer to her in the car and took her hand in his, “you know precisely what I'm referring to. Has something happened? Is it T...,” he stopped himself as his fingers slid over her wrist and he felt the rapid beat of Lizzy's heart.

He chuckled quietly, “You can't possibly be frightened of me, Lizzie. I know this particular case holds no excess amount of the usual danger. I don't think you're angry with me in particular,” he mused as he tilted his head slightly, willing Lizzie to stop looking out the window and meet his gaze.

She cleared her throat, “Leave it, Red; I'm fine.”

Red spoke soothingly as he rubbed Lizzie's hand between his own, “This man we're going to rendezvous with is quiet nervous himself, Lizzie. We must be calm and composed and give him no reason to suspect anything is amiss.” When Red's fingers moved up and under the cuff of Lizzie's blouse, she gasped quietly and he watched as a blush crept out of her cleavage and up her neck to color her cheeks delicately. Suddenly he understood what was happening; she'd been thinking of him as much as he had been thinking of her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started off as a “back and forth” with Lizzie and then Red taking the lead for the inner monologue. Things seem to have changed in the fourth chapter; now they're both clamoring for the mic. I really must confess to having absolutely no control over the fic at this point; they're gonna say what they want to say and literary structure be damned. 
> 
> So, practically anytime there is a second language in my fic, I just use an online translator. Forgive me if my French isn't up to snuff. 
> 
> Warning: There's no plot here. Looking for it will only hurt your brain. And, oh yeah, Tom was abducted by aliens or never even existed or whatever. Also, I'm aware of my comma problems (all too aware) but my regular beta reader isn't a fan of The Blacklist so this is working without a net.

The Little Things Chapter Four

 

BLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBL  
Lizzie strained her neck to look out the window, anywhere but into Red's knowing eyes, “I'll do my job as I've been trained, Red. You don't need to worry about me.”

'Worry?' Red thought. 'Yes, but I would add: admire, esteem, respect, think highly of, long for, and desire. What's a word that rhymes with desire?' He squeezed her hand once before letting it go, “Then I won't.” 

BLBLBLBLBLBLB

As they drove back to the Post Office late in the afternoon, Red broke the silence in the backseat by murmuring, “You're as good as your word, Elizabeth.”

She had been lost in thought, gazing out the window at the winter sunset and, for those preciously quiet moments, allowing her senses to revel in the nearness of Raymond Reddington. 'Too bad he had to speak,' Lizzie thought wryly. “Thanks,” she answered him simply.

“Lizzie,” Red murmured huskily before moving closer to her on the seat and taking the hand that lay on her thigh between his own.

Lizzie willed herself not to jump; to remain still and aloof, “Red,” she answered back happy that her voice didn't waver too much.

“Nous refusons d'adresser le problème,” Red murmured in answer and moved still closer to Lizzie, his eyes trained studiously on the fast pulse he could see hammering quickly at her throat.

“What?” Lizzie asked breathlessly and turned to find Red much closer than she felt truly comfortable.

Red used one hand to sweep the hair back from her neck, mesmerized by the smooth skin of her throat and the tattoo of desire and heightened emotions that he saw beating there. He chuckled, “In the more vulgar English; 'There is an elephant in the room.”

Lizzie swallowed hard as she kept her gaze focused on a spot just below Red's eyes. 'Just the one?' she thought. 'More like a whole fucking herd.' But, knowing Red wouldn't fully appreciate her vernacular, she simply answered, “Yes.”

“I'm simply wanting to talk, Lizzie,” Red assured her, “I promise not to jump you. That is,” he paused, “unless you'd like me to.” When Lizzie continued to look uncertain, the older man scooted back suddenly and offered up his hands, crossed over each other, “Would it make you feel more comfortable if I were handcuffed while we had this conversation?”

“More like bound and gagged,” Lizzie retorted before realizing how sexual her offhand snide comment would sound.

“Oh, Lizzie,” Red responded happily, a boyish smirk suffusing his face, “you're always a surprise.”

“That's not what I meant and you know it,” She snorted. 

“That is unfortunate,” Red smiled as he uncrossed his hands and rubbed them briefly through his hair.

Lizzie couldn't help but track the movement of his fingers. She had dated a boy in high school with hair buzzed short like Red's; she still remembered how nice it felt to rub her hands across the newly shorn scalp. Her fingers itched to test if Red's hair felt the same or different, 'Stiffer or softer?' Lizzie wondered. And then, not exactly knowing what she was doing, Lizzie scooted closer to Red on the car seat and reached up with a murmured, “You have something in your hair,” before skimming her hands over his scalp to dislodge the imaginary fluff. 'Softer, definitely softer,' Lizzie mused to herself.

Quickly Red struck out, grabbing Lizzie's wrist and dragging her hand down the side of his head to his cheek so that he could turn and kiss her palm. 'Oil, metal, and Lavender; just as I'd imagined,' Red thought.

When Lizzie left her palm securely against his mouth, even after Red had dropped his hands, he took it as a sign and used the opportunity to take her by the waist, lifting her across the seat until she was comfortably in his lap. This put Lizzie slightly above him and Red arched his neck to bring their mouths closer together. He stopped a hair's width from Lizzie's moistened lips, wanting her to come to him.

Lizzie resisted, her mouth buzzing with the nearness of Red's Lips, their warm breath mingling, her hands wrapped securely around his neck. And then, with a noise that was part moan, part growl, and part laugh, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his. They were still for a few seconds, each taking in the reality of what was happening, before their lips began to move softly and slowly against each other. Red was the first to snake his tongue out, licking at Lizzie's bottom lip, asking for entrance; wanting to taste her. Lizzie acquiesced and their tongues mingled in a hot grappling of mutual aggression and desire. 

Lizzie loosened Red's tie so that she could run her hands in under the collar of his shirt. Her shoes pressed hard on the inside of the door to get leverage so that she could writhe in Red's lap; desperately looking for some friction. Red assisted her by holding on hard to Lizzie's hips while he made shallow thrusts against her ass. When Red's hands slid under the hem of Lizzie's blouse she broke the kiss, “I'm completely accepting that this is happening, Red,” Lizzie panted. “But, however nice your car is and,” her voice dropped to a whisper, “however trusted and loyal Dembe is...”

“Understood,” Red answered her catching his breath and extricating his overeager hands. With a great show of reluctance, Red put Lizzie back on her side of the car seat.

Lizzie's brow furrowed, “I didn't say I wanted you to stop completely,” she clarified as she moved back to Red's side.

“I want to take you out to dinner,” Red told her as his thumb traced her bottom lip.

Lizzie kissed the pad of Red's thumb, “I'm too tired to get all dressed up and go out,” she said while sliding her hands around Red's neck and brushing her fingers up his nape and into the short bristle of hair at the base of his skull. 'More like I don't want to share your attentions with anyone; not even the waiter,' Lizzie thought accompanied by a mental predatory chuckle.

Red was briefly afraid that Hell might freeze over in that moment as he was rendered mute by the caresses from Lizzie's fingers in his hair. He could actually feel the calluses, just as he had imagined he would, and it was absolute bliss. “Then we'll order in,” he sighed and leaned back into Lizzie's ministrations as her fingernails raked lightly over his scalp, her thumbs tracing the edges of his ears. “What sort of cuisine are you most fond of; I can find whatever you like,” Red moaned happily, his eyes sliding closed.

“Greek,” Lizzie answered him as she continued to move her hands over his head. 'I wonder what this would feel like if he were to rub his head over my...' Lizzie laughed quietly. She gave Red a smug little smile when he popped open one eye to see what the giggling was about.

“I know where the best gyros in the city can be found,” Red assured her as he slid his hands under Lizzie's jacket to circle her waist; he desperately wanted her back in his lap. “Greatest kept secret in DC; the owner is a personal friend of mine.”

Lizzie resisted Red's tugs on her torso and gave him a pointed look that ended with her glancing at the back of Dembe's head. “How does he stay in business if it's such a well kept secret?” Lizzie asked while compromising with Red by turning to the side and sliding one leg over Red's nearest so that she was half-way straddling him.

Red resisted the urge to swat Lizzie on the ass for teasing him, “Hummus and pita bread are not his main imports,” he explained while leaning forward and brushing a kiss over the exposed skin of Lizzie's cleavage.

Lizzie gasped at the feel of Red's teeth and tongue on her flesh, “I see.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're getting there I promise. I know it's a bit of a tease to leave it at this but, I don't know...I think that makes it more fun. *evil laugh*

Chapter Five

Lizzie stopped at her apartment to change before heading to Red's apartment. Style be damned; she just wanted to be comfortable and so, when Dembe opened the door, he found Lizzie standing in the hallway wearing old jeans and a black v-neck sweater. 'Casual, yes,' she thought, 'but still prepared.' The dark blue lace matching panties and bra set she wore had been a birthday gift to herself but had stayed in the top drawer of her dresser unused until tonight. She hadn't had anyone to wear it for, hadn't felt like wearing it 'just because', and wasn't even completely sure she'd be showing it off that night.

Following Dembe into the sitting room, she could hear strains of soft jazz playing from stereo; it wasn't anything that she was familiar with but she liked it. As she approached the couch, she saw that the music matched Red's chosen attire; classic but casual in an alluring way. Red wore dark khakis and a blue silk dress shirt, unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. 'I don't think I've ever seen Red's forearms,' Liz thought to herself. They were thick and well muscled; Liz bit back a little smile of approval.

Red sat the book that he'd been reading on the coffee table and stood to greet her, “Lizzie,” he murmured and walked to her, embracing her lightly and brushing her lips with his own in a friendly, albeit sexual, kiss. He stepped back and eyed her appreciatively, “Lovely, as always.”

Lizzie just barely suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, “You are such a practiced...,” she cleared her throat, “charmer.”

Red chuckled and locked eyes with her, “Never with you, Lizzie; I call them as I see them. You're not used to men referring to your beauty? You must spend a lot of time in the company of fools. Oh, I'd nearly forgotten, you work for the FBI.” He smirked at his own joke and sat back down on the couch.

Lizzie wasn't able to suppress the eye roll this time, “Ever get tired of being the cleverest one in the room?” she asked while taking a seat on the far side of the couch.

Red seemed to give this question serious thought for a few moments, “No,” he smiled at Lizzie's soft laughter. “Are you hungry?”

Lizzie kicked off her shoes and slid her feet underneath herself, “Honestly, not yet; I don't usually eat dinner until later.”

“Not a problem,” Red assured her, patting her knee gently before standing up and walking to the side bar, “Would you like a glass of wine?”

“Yes, please,” Lizzie answered him; marveling at how her leg tingled from such a simple touch. “How late is the restaurant open?”

Red gave her a self-satisfied smile over his shoulder as he poured her a glass of red wine, “As late as I like.”

Lizzie laughed again, “You're quite proud of yourself, aren't you?” she asked as she accepted the glass of wine.

Red settled back into the couch, “Content in the comforts that my years have brought me,” he clarified.

Lizzie smiled at his rephrasing and took a sip of her wine before setting it down on the coffee table. When she sat back up, Red had smoothly moved across the couch to be near her. 

Red placed his own glass on the coffee table and then sat up, resting his right arm on the couch behind Lizzie. “I don't like unfinished business,” he stated, his eyes trained on Lizzie's face.

Lizzie felt herself blush, “I'm business?” she asked teasingly.

“No, Lizzie, not at all; you would be,” his eyes swept down her form with a complimentary gaze, “all pleasure.” 

Lizzie could feel that her face was practically on fire with embarrassment but her body was thrumming with awareness at Red's closeness, “And...,” was all she managed to whisper; not trusting herself to produce the smooth dialogue that dripped from Red's lips.

Red pushed aside the hair that draped over Lizzie's shoulder in order to expose the skin of her neck. His tongue snaked out briefly to lick at his bottom lip, “Whether a transaction is conducted for business or pleasure, the lack of completion is equally,” he paused and leaned forward to place a kiss on Lizzie's neck so that he could growl the last word into her ear, “frustrating.”


	6. The Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things continue to progress.

Chapter Six

Lizzie wondered what it would take to make Red lose his eloquent speech. All it had taken for her was Red's teeth nibbling at her earlobe while his hand brushed up under her sweater; fingers drawing lazy circles on the soft skin of her stomach. Though Red seemed just as happy with the moans and gasps that had replaced Lizzie's words. She toed off her shoes and moved quickly so that she straddled his lap. Red chuckled when she grabbed his wrists and pressed them onto the headrest of the couch, effectively pinning him against the cushions.

Looking deep into her eyes, Red smiled languidly, “Are you going to take me up on my earlier offer, Lizzie?” He glanced down at the pockets of her jeans, “It seems you left your handcuffs at home; pity.”

Red gasped as Lizzie settled slowly in his lap, leaning forward to press her breasts to his chest. She smiled, proud of her ability to shut him up, “You're immobilized enough for me,” she murmured as she placed a line of kisses up the bare skin of his neck.

He stuttered, his hands lifting from the couch, as she bit him rather hard at the spot where his neck met his shoulder, “I...”

Lizzie pushed Red's arms back against the couch, “Just hold still and keep quiet for once, alright?”

Red licked his lips and smiled, his eyes heavy lidded with desire. He nodded once and then did his best to remain still as Lizzie kissed along his jawline. All thoughts of speaking, imputing some amusing little flirtatious comments, stopped when Lizzie's lips brushed softly against his. Red growled into the kiss and thrust his hips upward to meet the circular motions that Lizzie was making against his lap. He balled his hands into tight fists when Lizzie's teeth nibbled at his lower lip, her tongue tracing the outline before sliding into his mouth.

Lizzie smiled as she felt Red's body tense and then thrust forward to press tightly against her. When she sat back to remove her sweater, Red obediently kept his hands where she had pressed them against the headrest, his eyes trained on her movements as the article of clothing was lifted over her head and dropped unceremoniously to the floor. Red's mind, unbidden, began searching for a word that rhymed with 'goddess' as Lizzie lifted her eyes that were partly covered by her long, dark, tresses, meeting his heated gaze. 

Her hands slid up his torso, tracing over his arms to reclaim his wrists, and Red looked down the bare expanse of Lizzie's neck to her shoulders that were now only covered by the slim straps of her lace bra. The dark blue of the lace, such a contrast to her pale skin, made the breath hitch in his throat and he moaned a simple, “Oh, Elizabeth.”

Lizzie jumped when a soft knock echoed in the room. Red shot a fiery look at the door as it opened a crack and Dembe's deep timber was heard, “That call from Mawali just came in.”

Red sighed quietly and Lizzie saw that he was resigned to their being interrupted, “Tell C'arlez that I'll be with him shortly,” he called out and the door shut softly.

Lizzie let go of Red's hands and sat back a little self-consciously. She wrapped her arms around her torso and looked over her shoulder to find her sweater, “I'll just...” she explained as she stood up from Red's lap and disappeared into the open door of the bedroom.

Red rubbed his face with his hands hard, growling with frustration. He willed himself to be calm and stood up from the couch. Walking to the bedroom, Red said quietly through the open door, “I've been waiting for this call for weeks, Lizzie.”

“It's fine,” she answered him and Red heard the tap in his bathroom turn on as Lizzie splashed cold water on her face.

“I will be back as soon as I can,” he promised her. “Please, Lizzie, don't go anywhere,” and then he turned on his heel and quickly left the room.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red and Lizzie continue to get comfortable with each other. Not there yet... I hope I'm not annoying anyone but this story is coming through in small pieces for me.

Chapter Seven

Red was gone for the better part of an hour. When he returned to the sitting room, he found Lizzie sitting comfortably on the couch, reading a book she'd found on the shelf. He gave a little moue of protest when he saw that she was fully dressed.

Lizzie laughed, “You didn't expect me to walk around half naked, did you?”

“Expect?” Red asked as he sat down on the couch next to her, smiling, “No; but it would be greatly appreciated.” He sat back and raised his arms, pressing his wrists securely against the headrest, “Now, where were we?”

Lizzie smiled and lifted her hands slightly in protest before putting down the book, “Sorry to sound like a tease but...I'm kind of hungry.” 

Red leaned in to kiss her softly, “No need to apologize. I'm just glad you're still here; I hadn't spoken to C'arlez for some time and he can be rather chatty.” He stood up off the couch and walked to the phone, “Do you mind if I order for us?”

Lizzie smiled, “No, I trust you.”

The simple statement produced a happy little flutter in Red's chest and he smiled warmly at Lizzie before turning to the task of ordering their dinner. “It will be about forty minutes,” he told her as he hung up the phone and joined her back on the couch, “however will we pass the time?” 

He grinned lecherously at her as he scooted across the couch but Lizzie stopped him by putting the book that she'd been perusing in his hands. “Read to me?”

Red looked down at the slim volume of French poetry in his hands, “You speak French?” he asked her though he already knew the answer; there was very little that he didn't know about Lizzie.

“Not well,” Lizzie admitted, “I took some classes in high school. But, I really enjoy it and,” she placed a pillow in Red's lap and swung around so that she was laying on the couch, her head on the pillow, “I love being read to.”

Red looked down at Lizzie, “Now that is most assuredly being a tease.”

“I know,” she smiled, “read.”


	8. The Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clothes start to come off, and will stay off this time; I promise.
> 
> "Mon chéri était nu, ou presque, pour savoir mon coeur."- Baudelaire "My darling was naked, or nearly, for knowing my heart."

Chapter Eight

If she hadn't been so very physically aware of Red's presence, and so incredibly hungry, Lizzie may have fallen asleep. Red's voice was normally soothing; it was part of the reason he was so good at his job. But Red reading French poetry, while his free hand brushed aimlessly through her hair and rubbed her neck, was practically hypnotic. Despite her hunger, Lizzie was a bit disappointed when Dembe knocked on the door to let them know the food had arrived. 

 

The smells that wafted in with the take-out bags were alluring enough to chase away her feelings of disappointment. They enjoyed another glass of wine while they ate the gyros, dolma, and tabbouleh. “You were right,” Lizzie said as she wiped her mouth with a napkin, “this is the best gyro I've ever had.”

“Say that again,” Red responded, his eyes sparkling with humor.

“This is the best gyro I've ever had?” Lizzie asked smiling, knowing full well what Red meant for her to repeat.

“No,” Red answered her as he took another sip of wine, “the first part.”

“Like you don't hear that often enough,” Lizzie chuckled as she took another scoop of tabbouleh.

BLBLBLBLBLBL

“No one said you had to use your hands,” Lizzie laughed as she watched Red race to the kitchen for some club soda.

“I liked this shirt,” Red called from the kitchen.

Lizzie walked into the adjoining room in time to see Red slide out of his shirt and deposit it in the sink. She leaned against the refrigerator, enjoying the sight of Red in only an undershirt and trousers, “Or you could have just eaten dinner like that,” Lizzie leered.

Red glanced at her as he poured the club soda over the stained area of his shirt, “You're enjoying this far too much.” He scrubbed at his shirt, “I was afraid you'd laugh at me,” he murmured.

Lizzie walked up behind Red and put her arms around his waist, planting a kiss on his shoulder blade, “Laugh at what?”

Red growled quietly at the feel of Lizzie's mouth on his back through the cotton of his undershirt, he dropped the shirt in the sink, the stain forgotten, “At me using a knife and fork to eat a gyro,” he chuckled quietly at how ridiculous it sounded when voiced aloud.

“No judgments here,” Lizzie laughed.

Red could feel the curve of her mouth, Lizzie's smile, against his back. He remained very still as Lizzie's hands gathered up handfuls of his undershirt and pulled it free of the waistband of his trousers. He hissed loudly when her hands stole up under the material; her fingers splaying out over his stomach and then gliding up to his chest. Red took a stuttering breath, remaining as still as possible, fearing that any movement might cause another distraction, another delay to the moment when he could have Lizzie naked in his arms.

Lizzie stepped closer, pressing her breasts against Red's back, her hands moving back down his torso, nails scratching lightly at his skin. “Mon chéri était nu, ou presque, pour savoir mon coeur,” Red growled as his wet hands slid down the side of the sink.

Lizzie chuckled and stood up on tiptoe to place a kiss at the base of Red's neck, “So this reduces you to speaking French? Translation, please?”

Red turned from the sink to gather Lizzie into his arms, “Love, some translations must be shown rather than told.” His lips descended to hers, his mouth demanding and hot as they were both rendered speechless.


	9. The Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some actual action here; hope you like it. There will probably be one more chapter- maybe two.  
> Sorry about the pun at the end.

Chapter Nine

Red led Lizzie to the bedroom and closed the door quietly before taking her by the hips and quickly pulling her to him. Lizzie sighed into the kiss and grabbed the hem of Red's undershirt; she stepped back slightly in order to pull it up over his head and drop it to the floor. Lizzie wrapped her arms around him, her hands sliding over every inch of his chest and back. Red was usually wrapped in so many layers of clothing, his bare skin was almost surreal. He couldn't help but be flattered by Lizzie's attentions, “I hope I don't disappoint,” he smiled.

Lizzie blushed, “No, of course not.” Her fingers touched on a small, jagged, scar on his left side and then tracked up to what was obviously a bullet hole on his right pectoral, “So many scars,” she observed.

“You'll of course recognize the new edition,” Red smirked as he lifted his chin to indicate the small rounded scar on the right side of his neck.

Lizzie pursed her lips and slid her hand up his torso to ghost her fingers over her mark, “Sorry about that.”

“Don't be,” Red chuckled, “it was one of the sexiest attacks I've ever been on the receiving end of.”

“One of?” Lizzie asked, peeking at Red's face to make sure his joviality was genuine.

The older man smiled at her warmly and shrugged, “I have stories; but they're for a later date.”

“Is this a date?” Lizzie teased as she allowed Red to walk her backwards until the backs of her knees hit the side of his bed.

“Something like that,” Red smirked as he reached behind her to turn down the bed.

Lizzie turned around and then realized that she looked a bit disappointed as Red pulled back the blankets, “Hmm,” she breathed.

“Expecting silk sheets?” Red laughed as he hugged her from behind, burying his nose in the hair at the base of her neck.

Lizzie laughed, “I was, actually.”

“Aesthetically pleasing, yes,” Red answered her as he wrapped his hands around her waist and then slid them up under her sweater to cup her breasts through the lace of her bra, “but ultimately, impractical.” She sighed as he pushed one leg between hers, applying pressure to her core, “When the throws of passion become too strenuous, one or both parties might slide off onto the floor.”

Lizzie smiled as he pulled her sweater over her head and tossed it on a chair, “That could definitely kill the mood,” she agreed.

Red unhooked her bra and it joined the sweater on the chair. He turned her around and took in the sight of her bare breasts, her nipples tight and peaked, her skin flushed, “Lovely,” Red breathed and pushed her gently back against the bed until she lay down and slid her arms up over her head. Kneeling in front of her on the floor, Red unbuttoned Lizzie's jeans and slid them off her body. His hands moved to cup the backs of her knees as he leaned down and placed light kisses on her panties.

His hot breath through the thin lace made Lizzie stutter with need. She reached down to run her hands through Red's hair and moaned when he licked her with the flat of his tongue. She squirmed against his mouth as he continued to stroke her knees and thighs, licking her until her panties were sopping wet with his kisses and her juices. His attentions had her tottering on the edge and she panted with impatience. “Please,” Lizzie begged, her hips thrusting, unbidden, against Red's mouth.

She looked down to see Red lick his lips and grab the waistband of her panties to pull them down to mid-thigh. “You know I can't refuse you anything, sweetheart.” When Lizzie shimmied her hips, trying to make her panties fall to the floor, Red stopped her. “Leave everything as I've placed it, please, Lizzie,” he smiled and then leaned down to return to the task of pleasuring Lizzie.

Red's strong hands circling her thighs while his tongue swiped long strokes through her sex had Lizzie writhing beneath him. One hand gripped the sheets while her other continued to stroke Red's hair and neck. Her panties, caught at mid-thigh, gave a slight feeling of being restrained; she liked it. When Red leaned down still further to take her hardened clit between his lps, Lizzie was fairly certain that she heard the sheet rip as her hips bucked forward and she keened her release into the stillness of Red's bedroom.


	10. The Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it. However, there's already a couple more plot bunnies in my head for this ship. It's going to remain strictly PWP though- whatever comes of it. Just a warning: despite "reality" my ships, none of them, believe in condoms or morning breath or any other unromantic truths.

Chapter Ten

Red chuckled to himself as he moved up Lizzie's still prone body, dropping kisses along her hips and over her belly. As though having read her mind earlier, he rolled his head to brush his close cropped hair along her heated skin. Lizzie sighed at the tickling sensation it created on the underside of her breasts. She raised her head and kissed the top of his head, her hands sliding down his neck to stroke his shoulders and back.

Lizzie rearranged herself so that her head lay on the pillow and Red joined her, nestled against her side, his hands touching her gently, skimming her breasts and circling her taught nipples, “You are a study in contrasts, Elizabeth Keen,” he murmured against her neck, laughing quietly, “tasting so sweet and yet these filthy words escape your mouth in moments of passion.”

She gave him a smug smile, “Not going to apologize.”

“Nor should you,” Red replied. Lizzie moaned as he nuzzled at her neck, his hands sliding down over her breasts and stomach to stroke her thighs. “You said once that I hated myself for needing you,” he murmured against her shoulder as his fingers drew patterns over her sex. “In actuality, my need for you scares me, Lizzie.” Red groaned quietly as his fingers stroked through her wet heat, “But the fear is part of the pleasure. That slight trepidation makes the surrender so much sweeter.” Lizzie gasped as two of Red's fingers entered her slowly.

She writhed against him, turning her head to kiss his mouth, her tongue sliding between his lips to mimic the thrusting of his fingers. Lizzie's fingernails scored him as her hand moved up his bare chest to grasp at his neck, gripping tightly while she kissed him hard; her teeth biting at his lower lip. When Red's thumb slid over her clit, Lizzie groaned. Her hand left Red's neck to travel back down his chest, tugging at the waistband of his trousers and trying to unbutton them by feel alone.

Red broke the kiss, gasping for air and chuckling at the way Lizzie's fingers fumbled with the button. Lizzie gave a moue of protest when his hand slid from her sex so that he could help her to finish undressing him. Lizzie moved over and, taking the waistband of his trousers between her hands, kissed down the length of Red's chest while pulling them from his legs. Red's boxers quickly joined them on the floor and Lizzie moved back up. Kissing his lower belly, her hands stroking his thighs, she looked up to meet Red's heated gaze. Red's hands moved down to brush the hair away from Lizzie's face; he was watching her so intently, not giving any sort of direction but waiting to see what she would do.

Lizzie felt herself blush. Red seemed just as comfortable in the nude as in a three piece suit and yet Lizzie suddenly felt very naked. Marshaling her courage, and attempting to shake off those nagging fears that had resurfaced with his comments, Lizzie moved down, keeping eye contact, and took Red fully in her mouth. He groaned rather loudly but managed to keep both eyes open and watching Lizzie as her lips moved along his shaft. Eventually Lizzie's eyes slipped close as she got caught up in what she was doing. Her thighs pressed together as she moved her hips against the bed, enjoying the teasing feeling from the lack of direct stimulation to her core.

Red's low moans turned to panting as he wound his hand in her hair and pulled gently, “Lizzy,” he said a bit too sternly for the present situation.

Lizzie opened her eyes, allowing him to slip from her mouth slowly. When she gazed up at Red she saw that he was moments away from losing control. She smiled smugly as she crawled back up his naked form, her knees on either side of his hips.

Red laughed quietly as his hands moved up her stomach to cup her breasts, “Proud of yourself?”

Lizzie smiled, “I am; yes.”

Red smirked at her, his hands sliding to Lizzie's hips and lifting her slightly. She took the hint and reached between them to take him in her hands. When Lizzie settled back down on her knees, Red's hands stayed on her hips, they both groaned with pleasure. Lizzie's breath stuttered in her throat as Red thrust up into her while controlling her hips, coaxing a circular pattern from her. Lizzie leaned forward and placed her hands on Red's chest, her nails digging into his pectorals as she bit at her lower lip. 

One of Red's hands moved back to cup Lizzie's ass when she moved to deepen their thrusting, doing her part by raising up on her knees and meeting him halfway. His other hand moved between them, his fingers sliding against her clit. Red gasped when he felt Lizzie tighten around him; he could feel himself nearing completion but he curled his toes to stave off the orgasm. The image before him of Lizzie; flushed and aroused, hair mussed, nibbling on her lower lip was not helping but he couldn't have looked away if he'd wanted to. “Come here, Love,” he murmured, pulling her to him so that he could kiss her. Their thrusting increased, their pace quickening as the new angle had Lizzie very aware of the waves of pleasure that were washing over her sex.

Red's lips moved in counterpoint to their bodies' movements; his mouth insistent and possessive but the kiss remained soft and almost languid. With one final movement of his thumb, Lizzie moaned loudly, biting down on Red's lower lip as she moved against him and found her release. The sudden feel of her teeth on his flesh and the way she held him to her as she came had Red quickly following Lizzie over the edge. His exhalation was a brief shout of pleasure that seemed to echo in Lizzie's ears.

Lizzie buried her face in Red's neck, panting and smiling as he stroked her back. With a small kiss to his bruised lower lip, Lizzie rolled onto the other side of the bed, stretching out and grinning to herself. Red moved to her side and touched his lip gingerly, “You've marked me yet again, Elizabeth,” he mused.

“It's becoming a habit,” she agreed.

“Calling it a vice sounds sexier,” Red chuckled.

THE END


End file.
